by John Doe 58 Replies latest jw friends
Your musings of the heart make perfect sense. They are universal themes felt by all but perhaps not so readily and eloquently expressed. Despite the brain fatigue you experience, your figurative heart beats true ...
Tell us more
You flatter me. Thanks.
I pledge my allegiance to the flag of the United States of America, and to the Republic, for which it stands, one nation, under god, with liberty and justice for all.
In a bar in Toledo, across from the depot
On a bar stool she took off her ring
I thought I'd get closer so I walked on over
I sat down and asked her her name
When the drinks finally hit her she said I'm no quitter
But I finally quit living on dreams
I'm hungry for laughter and here ever after
I'm after what ever the other life brings
In the mirror I saw him and I closely watched him
I thought how he looked out of place
He came to the woman who sat there beside me
He had a strange look on his face
The big hands were calloused he looked like a mountain
For a minute I thought I was dead
But he started shaking his big heart was breaking
He turned to the woman and said
You picked a fine time to leave me Lucille
With four hungry children and a crop in the field
I've had some bad times, lived through some sad times
But this time your hurting won't heal
You picked a fine time to leave me Lucille
After he left us I ordered more whisky
I thought how she'd made him look small
From the lights of the bar room to a rented hotel room
We walked without talking at all
She was a beauty but when she came to me
She must have thought I'd lost my mind
I couldn't hold her 'cos the words that he told her
Kept coming back time after time
You picked a fine time to leave me Lucille
With four hungry children and a crop in the field
I've had some bad times, lived through some sad times
This time your hurting won't heal
You picked a fine time to leave me Lucille
You picked a fine time to leave me Lucille
With four hungry children and a crop in the field
I've had some bad times lived through some sad times
But this time your hurting won't heal
You picked a fine time to leave me Lucille
I just finished ordering 4 cherry trees to be shipped to my brother. I got to thinking about how nice it felt to buy something for someone else. Yet, at the same time, my motives are not completely, if any, altruistic. I love cherries. I have no place to grow cherry trees. My favorite cherries are $8 per pound in the grocery store. You do the math. ;-)
I don't know if I'm alone in this feeling, but I feel that things that are tied to nature, such as trees, have a tendency to bind family and friends together. If my brother takes care of these trees, as I'm sure he will, they will be living and producing fruit long after we're dead. That's pretty awesome in my opinion.
Thunder only happens when it's raining.
I cannot tell a lie ... I'm weeping for you, Cherry.
I stood on the bare grass by the bus stop watching the neighbor's dog do it's morning business on the lawn. The morning has a crisp and distinct smell, and the late winter sun has a cheering quality. I listen to the traffic noise a block away, waiting for the deep rumble of the bus engine or the high pitched squeal of its brakes. And there it is, braking before it makes the turn onto my street. I glance down at my Timex and note that he's 30 seconds late this morning. He's inevitably 30 seconds late when I'm two minutes early, and two minutes early when I'm 30 seconds late.
The bus pulls up to a stop, and I wait as a young kid comes out the front door. I get in and make my way to an available seat, usually on the front 1/3 where the seats face each other. I'm in a wistful mood, and I note the different kinds of people on the bus. Across from me is an older black bearded gentleman. He doesn't look very prosperous, and he has a sly glance as he looks around the bus. He picks out a young college girl, and goes up and sits by her, striking up conversation. The girl has pulled back, brownish hair and is looking out the window with her hands folded on her knees, dark rimmed glasses on the tip of her nose. The black guy is loud and gregarious, and starts asking her where she's going and what classes she's taking. She, rather uneasily, acts sociable and tells him that she's a psychology major, and he smacks his head, turns away and says "wooowiiiieee." He then starts talking about where he's from and that he's a great grandfather 6 times over.
A couple of isles back, there's an overweight mid twenties white man with a backpack stuffed to the gills with who knows what. He's carrying a plastic bag from Dollar General with some cookies in it. He speaks only a couple of times on the trip, but it's in a very loud and brutish voice that doesn't leave your memory--the voice of the mentally deficient.
On the other side, there's a late teens white man with baggy jeans, dark round sunglasses and a flat brimmed hat. He's sporting IPOD buds hanging from his ears and is bopping along as he looks out the window, I would imagine to something like Eminem.
To my right up at the very front, there's a bag lady. She's overwieght, working her gums, and smells like she hasn't had a shower in a couple of weeks with a faint twist of urine. She pushes a small cart with groceries in it and looks as if she's a million miles away.
And then the bus pulls up to another stop, and it starts to get crowded. College kids are piling in. There's a group of Asian looking people in the midst, two young girls and one young man, and they get on and find a seat next to each other, conversing in some kind of tonal language that I don't comprehend. They are all smiles and full of energy.
Just another typical day on the morning bus ride.
People who wear red lipstick should be under an obligation to clean it off of collars.
We seemed to have reached a new paradigm in the human experience. Those of us fortunate enough to live in leading countries have become immersed in instant gratification as a way of life. Wondering something? Google is a click away. Want a new electronic gizmo? Buy now, squeal later. Want a telephone that has nationwide long distance, a video camera, a still camera, video games, a personal planner, a flashlight, an alarm clock, a calculator, a vibrator, and fits in a shirt pocket? What do you think this would cost, friends? As Bill Cosby would say, "$19.95." Want to watch a stripper? Free and a couple of clicks away.
Where is this lifestyle leading us? When information and gratifcation are at our fingertips at all times and all places, what room is their for contemplation, thoughtful analysis of our world, and retention of that information? What will motivate us when we become so immersed in our wants, so dependant on the technology and know how of others, and so immune from our own follies that we are completely inert and helpless? Furthermore, what does it mean to be a man in such times?
